


If You Want This (You're Gonna Have to Ask Me)

by stardustedknuckles



Series: What Beau Needs [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Collars, Dom/sub, F/F, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Sparring as foreplay, Vaginal Fingering, Wax Play, beau's a brat looking to be taken down a notch, beauyasha - Freeform, light blood, yasha's confident when it's to turn Beau on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Yasha promised she'd hurt Beau the way she wants her to. Beau holds her to it.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: What Beau Needs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924384
Comments: 18
Kudos: 268





	If You Want This (You're Gonna Have to Ask Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I adapted this from an unrelated smut fic - the link between parts 1 and 2 is intentionally vague.

Beau's fairly sure this is the single most baldfaced thing she's ever done -- and she's done a lot. Like, _a lot_ a lot. Stuff that got her thrown in jail, or the shit kicked out of her...that kind of stuff. But watching Yasha's expression as she absorbs the fact that Beau has just stomped up to her and demanded to be fucked properly makes something twist in Beau, and it's _way_ down in there.

And now Yasha's nodding like this is all perfectly reasonable, like she's used to fielding random blunt statements from horny monks. Well. Blunt statements from horny monks that aren't her. Does she know any other horny monks? Were there monks in her tribe? Were they all barbarians? _There's_ something to consider --

"Okay," Yasha says.

Beau's mind screeches to a halt, pauses, and erupts into flames. "What?"

Yasha stands, slides Skin Gorger nonchalantly into its holster between her shoulder blades, and pockets the rag she'd been using to clean it before meeting Beau's eyes and shrugging. "Okay," she repeats. "I will tie you down and fuck you. Did you have a time in mind?"

It's the barest hint of a smile that clues Beau in to two things: Yasha is absolutely flustering her on purpose, and she's also into what Beau is asking for.

She makes a strangled sound, clears her throat at the quirk of Yasha's lips and tries again. "Please?" Her heartbeat is in her ears and in her cunt as Yasha takes a step directly into her personal space, close enough that Beau is forced to look up. Her jaw might be hanging. She can't really tell right now. There is nothing in her awareness but Yasha. _She said yes she said yes she said yes oh my god --_ Yasha's hand takes up her periphery, and a line of electricity crackles where her fingertip brushes Beau's skin as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind Beau's ear. It could have been actual electricity, because Yasha can _do_ that. Beau's not sure there would be a difference in effect right now.

"You're adorable like this," Yasha says quietly.

"Thanks, you too," Beau manages. Wait. Fuck. "I mean."

Yasha's smile is bright and sharp, and then she leans in close to Beau's ear, and speaks softly. "I think I'm up for some fun tonight, actually. Sound good to you?" Beau shudders a little at the feeling of Yasha's breath against the side of her neck. Her eyes half close as she swallows, nodding furiously.

"Good." Yasha steps back with a smile, and the loss of her proximity leaves Beau feeling cold in the middle of Nicodranas's heat "This will be fun," she says lightly, like she's commenting about…like…actually Beau can't think of a time Yasha has said that before or what she would say it about, but that's not important because she's saying it now and it's because Beau all but demanded to be absolutely fucked at her mercy, and she's not quite sure something vital hasn't actually snapped inside of her.

Yasha puts a hand on Beau's shoulder as her expression takes on a serious tilt that Beau is in no way meant to buy for a minute. "I'm very glad you spoke up, you know. I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to last."

Some small part of Beau entertains the possibility that she's dead, actually. "Hhgh," she says.

Yasha shakes her head in mock disapproval. "I had no idea it was this easy to shut you up," she says. Before Beau can rally all of the necessary brain functions to reply, Yasha's hand moves from her shoulder to pat her cheek just once, and then she turns and walks cheerfully back towards the Chateau. Just before she moves out of range, she calls back, carelessly: "Be thinking of a safeword."

Beau counts to five before unlocking her knees and collapsing face first into the springy green underbrush. She has never wanted to touch herself so badly. A safeword. She'd figured, right, that there was a part of Yasha that knew far more than she was letting on. She's seen Yasha hit her stride enough to know what it looks like when she's confident.

She just cannot fucking process that _railing her_ is one of those things she's confident about.

Holy fuck.

********************

Beau's certain by the end of the night that at least three of the rest of the group know what's going on. Between Yasha's easy way of carrying herself and Beau's complete inability to quit looking dazed, it's probably not hard to figure out.

That doesn't stop her from turning scarlet when Caleb -- of all people, Caleb -- looks from Jester and Yasha as they return from their shopping trip back to Beau and says, "Well, at least with Jester in charge, you know you'll get the best equipment." He's laughing when he goes down under Beau's assault, knowing she'll pull her punches because she always does. She frogs him because he's right and he's smug and then she messes up his hair for good measure.

She's got the fuckin' zoomies by late afternoon like she's Frumpkin or something, so she bolts off into the bit of island brush near the Chateau and pounds out some pushups just to work up a sweat. She goes until her shoulders burn, and stops just short of exhaustion. Gotta save some energy.

It is a little destabilizing though, she thinks as she leans against a tree a few minutes later, breathing hard and looking through the foliage at the water. Having nerves about sex. Like, Yasha's hot, but Beau's bedded a lot of hot people. It's a good way to process shit. Let it all out, get back to business in the morning having parted on friendly or at least neutral terms.

But nobody else makes a ruin of her thought processes on a regular basis like Yasha, and that's got implications she hasn't looked too far into. There's a sharpness to that whole…blob of thinking that she's not going to poke right now, because she's here, and Yasha will be, and she'll be here tomorrow --

A quick snap behind her is the only warning she gets before a sharp kick to the back of her knee takes her down. She's fast, but Yasha's hand is waiting where her backhand lands and absorbs the blow with ease before twisting Beau's arm and sending her to the ground with a knee in her back and a grin on Yasha's face. Beau's breathing goes immediately ragged. She struggles for a moment. Nope, pinned. "Sup," she squeaks, a bit lightheaded.

"Oh hey," Yasha says pleasantly, like she's not holding Beau against the ground and short-circuiting everything about her. "Have you thought of a safeword for tonight?"

Fuck. "Uh. Forgot actually? Been a little distracted."

Yasha "hmms" for a moment, and then Beau gasps as her arm is wrenched just an inch higher. "Fuck!" The pain is sharp through her shoulder and she can feel it in her ribs. Her free hand digs into the ground. Yasha's grip slackens minutely. "Don't stop," Beau adds breathlessly. Her mind scrabbles for a moment. "Thunder," she manages. "It's thunder."

Yasha nods. "Good. Just checking. Dinner is in an hour."

"Oh god that's so far away," Beau mumbles into the ground.

Yasha fists her hair almost pensively and tugs just enough to get Beau's head up. "Make sure you wash up," she says.

The pressure in Beau's shoulder eases as Yasha releases her arm, and then the weight disappears from her back and there's a moment where Beau feels like maybe she's going to dissolve into the air without that grounding presence.

"You washing up with me?" she calls belatedly and winces. It's a good thing Yasha's already gone.

Dinner. She still has to get through dinner. With people and small talk and things that don't involve Yasha holding her down like that. Holy shit she's gonna die.

*********************

The food is always good here, but tonight Beau thinks it might be the best thing she's ever had and it's also driving her crazy. Her eyes barely leave Yasha, who laughs and jokes with the others in a way that pushes a little at Beau's impression of her. It's not that she doesn't participate, it's that she usually _joins_ the conversation and right now, she seems to be _leading_ it.

It's almost like she's making up for the fact that Beau isn't. And it's weird, because Beau knows why _she's_ being different. She's about to get the life fucked out of her by one of the toughest women she's ever met and who might also be at the center of a…thing, for Beau, but --

It hits her suddenly that the night has already started for Yasha, too.

Beau nearly drops her fork. Oh gods, that is _ridiculously_ hot. What Beau is seeing is Yasha sure of herself, a glimpse of the Yasha who's going to absolutely wreck her shit in like half an hour. Yasha takes a bite of something and glances smoothly over to Beau and she winks, because yeah of course she's putting this on for Beau.

She is so fucked.

"Marion," Yasha says inquisitively when a lull presents itself a few minutes later. "Beauregard and I will be sharing a room this evening and do not wish to be disturbed." 

Beau nearly chokes on her drink right there as every head at the table turns to look at her except for Marion's.

"I was wondering if a place such as this had any rooms that were outfitted for…quiet, I suppose," Yasha finished.

Beau's fairly certain Jester would have been happy to answer that question, but her face is glued to Beau's and it is honestly the most excited Beau has ever seen her. Which is weirdly warming? Super weirdly. But she's not gonna think too hard about it while she is trying everything in her power to keep from looking at Veth or Caleb. Or Fjord, for that matter, who is doing a piss poor job of pretending he's not two seconds from grinning ear to ear.

Fuckers.

"Of course," Marion says genially. "We have several rooms within the Chateau devoted to the utmost discretion. I am certain that Jester would be happy to show you to one after dinner."

Jester's attention finally turns back to Marion, leaving Beau feeling cold in the absence of her spotlight. "Oh, mama! Have someone bring Yasha's things to the big room."

Marion smiles. "Excellent idea."

"Just Yasha's?" Fjord mutters to Veth, so quietly that Beau probably wouldn't have heard it if every sound in the room weren't somehow ten times louder than normal.

"Jester took her shopping today," Veth whispers back gleefully.

"Oh my gods I can hear you," Beau hisses ferociously.

Fjord looks away and he's flushing because he's at least pretending to be a halfway decent guy, but Veth's grinning at her in a way that reminds Beau very suddenly of another, greener version of her. "Good."

"Dessert?" Marion asks politely.

Everyone clamors their assent and Beau is going to skin them alive, every last one of them. She notices, though, that while everyone is shooting her shit-eating grins or pointedly avoiding looking directly at her, Caduceus has eyes and a proud smile only for Yasha.

Figures.

She catches Yasha's eye again just once more, and she's surprised to see that there's a question there in those mismatched eyes -- a hesitation _. Is this okay?_ Beau's face erupts into flames because fuck, this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to her but also she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Yasha's got nothing to worry about. Beau's just not used to…being consulted on how she gets ignored? She huffs and tries for a smile, lifting a quiet thumbs up over the edge of the table and looking away furiously when Yasha's face clears and breaks into a smile.

Man, she's got it bad.

***********************

They take for fucking ever to leave, because of course they do, but finally it's Caduceus who excuses himself with a gracious thank you to Marion and her staff for a lovely evening. Fjord mutters something about reading and scoops Veth up when she shows absolutely no sign of going _anywhere_ and Caleb retires to his own room (he might be smiling, it's hard to tell -- he's probably smiling) and suddenly it's just her and Yasha and a bouncing, beaming Jester pressing a key into Yasha's hand ( _Yasha's_ hand, because _Yasha's_ controlling this whole thing, and if Beau doesn't find a new train of thought her knees might give out entirely).

(And while the thought of Yasha having to carry Beau up to the room is nice in nearly every other capacity, Beau's had about all the humiliation she can stand for the night.)

She hopes Yasha heard Jester's directions, because her head is pretty much static right now. She returns Jester's enthusiastic wave in a daze, and then Yasha's arm settles around her shoulders and it's such a strange sort of casual gesture that Beau startles and looks up at her in vague puzzlement.

She realizes Yasha has asked her a question. "Oh, uh…yeah. Yeah that was hot. Probably the hottest thing I've ever seen? I've seen some hot things, too, so it's--" Yasha's arm squeezes her. She stops talking.

"Your only job is to do what I tell you," Yasha murmurs. Her mismatched eyes are both dark, and Beau feels unbalanced trying to look into them at the same time.

She finds the last shred of her dignity and says, "We'll see." They both pretend her voice doesn't crack.

"That's what I like to hear," Yasha says as they begin walking. For the first time, Beau wonders what exactly Yasha has planned.

Yasha's arm stays around her shoulder, and that is just fine.

The room is nice, even for the Chateau. It's big and spacious, a large bed across from the door against the far wall. She can see a bathroom from here, with a big tub and everything. She takes it all in, eyes landing on a black sack on the trunk at the foot of the bed just as the door closes behind her with a sharp click. The hairs stand up on Beau's neck as she hears a bar grind slowly to the locked position. A moment of silence stretches, and Beau's not certain what comes next. "Big room," she says.

"Mmm," says Yasha. "Room to roam." Beau feels her step up close behind her and forces her heartbeat to slow as Yasha's fingers trace the tattoo on the back of her neck. Her skin prickles, because of course it does. "Don't you usually stretch before bed?" Yasha asks, but it's not a question.

Beau grins but doesn't turn around. "Want me to do em naked?"

In a flash, Yasha's hand is around her throat and pressing just enough to get Beau's attention. "I will be taking your clothes off tonight, when I see it fit." Her voice is casual, soft even. Beau shivers. "You may leave your shoes by the door and begin," she says, and steps away.

Beau leaves her shoes by the door and begins.

And there's a feeling, as Yasha watches her from her perch on the side of the bed -- something like self-consciousness bubbling to the surface. Which is dumb, because not only does she usually get a quick cooldown in at the end of the day, she's been known to show off a little when certain parties of interest might be nearby.

But being watched -- seen? -- is also incredibly fucking hot and a routine is a routine, so Beau is soon caught in the grip of its familiarity. She doesn't forget what's coming -- how could she when she's doing push-ups on a maroon carpet as thick as a blanket? -- but the tension that had been mounting in her all day starts to find some kind of release. By the end of it, she's feeling clear-headed and, if she's being honest, ready to make Yasha work for whatever's coming next.

Yasha is waiting a few feet away when Beau's finished, and she looks Beau up and down with a neutral expression, taking in the thin sheen of sweat and cocky look on her face. "That'll do," she says.

She looks almost bored when she drives her fist at Beau's solar plexus.

Something thrills in Beau as she whips out of reach just in time. She'd been hoping for something exactly like this, that Yasha would want to earn her. Yeah, Beau might've gone down on her knees if Yasha asked her to -- okay, she definitely would've -- but it's nice to be given some slack for Yasha to pull taut. Beau will let her win, but not until she's had some fun.

She lunges and aims three strikes at Yasha's face; no point starting off slow. Yasha dodges two and takes the third on the eye with a grim smile to guarantee good reach for her first right hook. Beau staggers with the force of it across her jaw. She's shaken off worse, but so has Yasha and she's there in Beau's space as soon as her feet find purchase on the ground again. She'd come in low, and Beau's center of gravity shifts to brace. Too late, she realizes her mistake as Yasha picks her up and throws her to the ground.

Beau flips over and scrambles, but she's not quick enough as Yasha's knee slams into her back and pins her to the ground like a butterfly, if the butterfly were five and a half feet of horny monk. She realizes she's never been hit by Yasha's hands alone. She has actually no idea what Yasha is like in hand-to-hand combat. She's just been assuming that it's not so much Yasha's thing and it _was_ her thing, so she'd be fine. Which could still be technically true, but she's got to get out of this first if she's gonna test it.

Yasha leans down to her. "Remember that you asked for this," she murmurs.

Every nerve in Beau's body is on fire. "I was going to say the same."

It's satisfying, breaking free from beneath Yasha's knee. She hears Yasha's grunt of surprise as she rolls, but she's there when Beau tries to scramble to her feet and she doesn't even have time to guess where she fucked up in her predictions before the impact of Yasha's elbow _explodes_ across her back. Beau's pulse quickens even as her vision stars white.

This is going to be so much fun as soon as she can breathe again.

Beau drags herself up to find Yasha watching a few feet away with a definite smirk. She unfolds her arms and makes a motion. Bring it on.

Beau snarls and charges, feinting a blow to Yasha's head and pivoting completely around to swipe at her knee -- and finding air. She has a moment to feel dimly flattered -- Yasha has clearly been watching her closely if she knows to expect that -- before instinctively ducking to avoid a blow that whiffs so loudly that Beau thinks it might well have removed her head from her shoulders.

For the first time, she wonders if packing a healing potion might've been smart and whether Yasha already thought of that.

She blocks an incoming knee with her elbow and gets two solid jabs into Yasha's solar plexus before dropping low again and making a sure strike to the inside of Yasha's thigh. Yasha roars in pain, and Beau isn't fast enough this time as rough, flailing hands latch on to her middle and take her down too.

Shit, Yasha has an _excellent_ grip.

It takes her a second too long to think of how she's going to scramble free, and her stomach flips over with the thrill of dread and anticipation just before Yasha gets a grip on the side of her breastband. Her breath vanishes for a moment as Yasha pushes her down for leverage, and then the leather straps that hold it together actually snap and the knowledge that Yasha has just ripped leather in half has Beau nearly woozy with incredulity.

Or possibly rib trauma. It's a toss-up.

"Holy f-" she's facedown on the ground before the thought can finish, and this time when Yasha pins her and pulls her arm back, Beau feels the braided texture of thin rope on her skin as Yasha starts wrapping with quick, sure movements.

Arousal spikes in Beau so hard that she doesn't even think to try and struggle until her arm is pressed back up against her and Yasha's dominating hand is already reaching for the other.

By then, it's too late.

They both know it, but Beau struggles anyway just to make it harder for Yasha to get the rope around and then lashed so that her arms are bent painfully behind her with her hands fluttering against her own shoulder blades. It hurts, and he pain narrows Beau's focus to her body in a way she usually can't achieve unless she's being actively fucked. Gods, Yasha hasn't even touched her cunt yet. Her _pants_ are still on.

Beau sees an opening when she feels Yasha turn her attention to something -- another rope, maybe, who fuckin knows -- and throws her body weight to the side as best as she can without being able to brace herself on her arms. Yasha's knee crashes against her spine and drives her flat on the ground, shoulders screaming --

And then something cool and textured slides around Beau's neck and she goes very, very still.

**************************

Yasha will remember the way Beau stiffens under the touch of the collar until her dying day. A moment of tension -- would this be too far? Would she safeword out? -- and then the taut, thrumming body under hers goes completely limp in submission. The light from the magic balls above -- similar to Caleb's, but softer -- gleams on Beau's skin, a little brown and blue jewel in a sea of maroon carpet. Hers to do with as she pleases.

The thrill of victory and the awe of watching Beau surrender underneath her cause Yasha's hands to tremble slightly as she buckles the collar. Her cheek throbs where Beau got a good hit in, and it's the same rhythm lancing straight through her core. She slides a finger under the collar and tugs to check that it isn't too tight, and the simple motion sends a jolt clear up Beau's spine as a reflexive moan drops from her lips.

It is a damn good thing that Beau can't see how close Yasha is to coming right then and there.

She swallows, finds her voice in the sudden quiet, and tugs again. "On your knees."

Beau's legs scramble on the carpet to keep up as Yasha gets to her feet, dragging Beau up by the finger hooked under the collar, and oh gods when Beau's face is finally tilted up to her in that magic light, Yasha almost can't stand it.

Beau's jaw is slack, top lip bleeding just a little, and the pupils of her eyes behind a few loose strands of her undercut are blown wide open. The way her arms are tied forces her chest out to alleviate the worst of the pressure, and her breasts heave gently with her every gasp. She looks at Yasha with a ferocity of focus and raw vulnerability that hits her like a whirlwind, and Yasha releases her hold on the collar so that both of her hands can get her pants down faster over her hips.

Beau's eyes are dark and hungry as she watches Yasha's fingers push her clothes down to the middle of her thigh; she barely even looks up as Yasha shirks her tunic off before grasping Beau by the back of the head and pulling her roughly against her cunt. Beau makes a contented groan that Yasha feels all the way through her and gets to work eagerly. Gods, she had suspected that the collar would have quite the effect, but she never dreamed of just how profoundly and instantly it would jettison Beau into submission. It's like a switch has flipped in her. Yasha will not forget this in a hurry.

Beau looks up at her through those long lashes as her clever tongue immediately seeks Yasha's entrance and fucks up into her and back out to drag slowly between her folds and over her clit. The warm slide of it is so nice, but it's the rest of it -- the knowledge that Beau wants to be here, coaxed into submission and at Yasha's every whim -- that makes her feel a little unglued. Yasha hisses and grips Beau tighter by the hair, her hips twitching against Beau's mouth. She's not sure she's ever been this turned on in her life.

Yasha lets her continue for a minute more before pulling hard on Beau's hair and stepping away. A thin line of slicks goes from Beau's parted lips to Yasha's cunt, and she grips the back of Beau's neck and forces her down before she can see exactly how affected Yasha is right now. It's not about her.

Beau doesn't move as Yasha pulls her pants back up and reaches for the bag she's brought with her. The menagerie coast was an excellent place to find gifts, provided you had a guide who knew all the best shops to visit and what to ask for.

Yasha picks Beau up roughly and drops her onto the bed with ease, careful to account for Beau's inability to brace herself and intentional enough that Beau won't suspect tenderness.

Yasha reaches down to grasp Beau's hips and pull them so that her ass is up, and then she hooks her fingers in her pants and yanks them downwards. She smiles at the shudder that races up Beaus' thighs before she lifts her knees one at a time to allow Yasha to pull them off entirely.

She looks absolutely stunning there on the bed before her, arms bound and exposed cunt up for Yasha's pleasure. She takes a breath, reminds herself: there will be other times for her to tell Beau exactly what she thinks. Tonight, Beau wants to submit. She may be the one bound facedown on the sheets, but it's her calling the shots.

With that in mind, Yasha nudges Beau's knees further apart with her hand. "Wider, please." She doesn't need to go wider, but Yasha knows that the small request adds to the buildup of Beau's anticipation. Her reward comes with a hitch in Beau's breathing as she shifts to obey, and only then does Yasha truly relax into things. Beau can hear her. Beau trusts her to continue. Yasha runs her hand gently down the inside of Beau's thigh, and then digs her nails in the taut muscle there to drag them back up. Beau gasps and whines, her cunt tightening on nothing as she tenses in response.

"I'm going to hit you now," Yasha says conversationally. "You will keep count out loud. Understood?"

Beau nods fervently, crying out when Yasha pulls back and slaps the inside of her other thigh. "Use your words," she says calmly.

"Fuck!" Beau hisses. Her voice shakes just a little. "Understood, yeah. One?"

"Good girl." Yasha's palm cracks again, this time across Beau's ass.

She rocks forward a little, teeth gritted. "Two," she grinds out. Yasha leans forward to grasp one of Beau's bare and dangling breasts and rolls the nipple roughly between her fingers as she smacks Beau again. "Three!" Beau yelps. "Fuck, Yasha." Her abs are clenched hard, her breath coming harsh as Yasha tweaks the nipple in her hand again just to watch her squirm helplessly.

She looks so perfect that Yasha can hardly stand it. She leans forward and bites Beau between the shoulder blades, thrusting her thigh between her legs as Beau chokes on a sound. Yasha hits her again. "Four!"

Her fingers drift lazily over Beau's reddening skin as she watches the mark she'd left with her teeth go from white to dark. She chuckles as Beau flinches when her hand lifts and rests again gently against her skin.

Then she hits her again.

A long second passes in which Beau bites her lip and steels herself. Then, hoarsely: "Five."

Her thighs are trembling now. Yasha's fingers brush from the inside of Beau's knee to the top of the angry red lines she had dragged there moments ago. Beau's body tenses, but she's already too far gone to hold it. Her breath falls out again in a stuttered gasp.

Yasha pauses, making sure that her voice will come out appropriately demanding. "Tired so soon?"

"No," Beau grinds out immediately. Her shoulders try to roll, and her fingers clench and flex on air.

Yasha hmmms. "Five slaps from me are enough to take down some people," she says. "It's perfectly alright if you want to tap out." She's teasing Beau a little, but Beau is being stubborn and it's up to Yasha to make sure she doesn't go over her limits just to prove she can. Something has to give if they are going to keep playing -- and Yasha very much wants to keep playing.

"I'm fine," Beau snaps.

"Hush." Yasha traces one of the welts already forming across Beau's ass, drags it up to touch the ropes binding Beau's arms in their awkward position.

Beau bucks immediately, snarling. "I said I'm --" she breaks off with a cry as Yasha slaps the forming welt on her ass hard enough to make her own palm sting. Beau's legs buckle completely, her eyes glazed with pain and pleasure.

She is incomprehensibly beautiful.

"Number," she prompts.

"S-s-six," Beau whispers.

Gods, that stammer. "Don't move."

Her voice, faint from the sheets below: "Okay."

Yasha unwinds the ties holding Beau's shoulders back, careful in maneuvering her arms. The ropes peel from her skin, leaving white and dark red lines in their wake. Yasha longs to kiss them, rub the blood back into them, but there will be time for that later. For now, she tugs Beau's wrists together at the base of her spine and places her palms against each other. "Lace," she says. Beau's fingers move obediently together, and Yasha binds them in place.

"Adjust if you need to," she says quietly. Beau's shoulders roll again, the relief in her muscles evident as she pulls her legs under her again like a newborn colt to resume the position she fell out of.

The left side of her ass is angry pink, but it doesn't yet match the right. One more for luck. As Beau fights to stay upright with a choked cry of "seven!" Yasha takes the moment to absorb everything before her with a rush of awe. Beau's body, a canvass. The bloom of red across her ass, already welting in two places and promising a third where she just struck, the bite mark on her back framed by the wonderful fading tendrils spiraling down her arms…

Beau's is hers to mark -- and there is _so much_ of her left to claim.

She slides a hand under Beau's hips -- Beau twitches in surprise, then stiffens in apology -- and tugs under her shoulder with the other to flip her handily onto her back. Yasha smiles at the vast expanse of Beau's skin before her. It's a map of scars, of course, but there's a lack of marks from Yasha -- save the obvious one -- that she aims to fix. She allows herself the single tender gesture of smoothing the hair from Beau's face and brushing her thumb across the split she opened on her cheekbone, and then she leans off the bed to rummage through her bag again. Her fingers close around what she's looking for, and she holds the unlit candle up where Beau can see it. Yasha examines it carelessly, unerringly conscious of Beau's wary and curious expression out of the corner of her eyes.

"Do you remember the safewords?" She asks blithely. _Do you want this?_

"Thunder to stop," Beau repeats dutifully, her voice a little stronger but still delightfully husky. "Lightning to slow down."

Yasha nods and lifts her other hand into view. Beau takes in the dark strip of fabric hanging long and limp to coil just a little on the sheets. Her eyes flick to the candle, then back to Yasha. Something cracks in her expression as the pieces fall in place, a look of need so powerful that her eyes seem nearly luminous on their own. "Fuck," she says.

Yasha nods and gets up from the bed, moving the few feet to the lantern burning in its glass case next to Beau's head. She goes slow, fully conscious of Beau's eyes fixated on her hand as she tilts the candle into the opened pane. It catches quickly, but it is a short candle and Yasha's fingertips sting a little with the heat.

She sets the candle down next to the lantern and turns to Beau. "Look at me." Beau lifts her chin and stares Yasha down, split lip shaking the barest amount, and doesn't blink as Yasha lays the black, silky fabric over her eyes. Yasha wraps it twice before securing it in the back.

Now that she doesn't have to worry that Beau can see her trying to hold it together, Yasha feels bolder somehow. She reaches down suddenly and pinches one of Beau's nipples, hard. Her back arches immediately in response as she hisses through her teeth, gasping for breath when Yasha finally lets go.

"It will take a few moments for the wax to heat," she says, enjoying the way Beau flinches as she drags her fingertips gently from Beau's hipbone to her navel, scratching lightly. "I think I'll get myself off while we wait." Beau whines, a disappointed and needy thing.

Yasha's lying, of course. The candle is made from a special wax that heats more quickly but will do less damage to Beau's skin. It will leave definite marks, Jester had said, but it won't cause any actual harm. Already, a pool of clear, hot liquid has pearled beneath the wick. In the same way Yasha knows to press Beau deeper into submission, she knows to make her wait.

Yasha probes the swollen cut on Beau's lip with a finger and then slides two of them between her teeth, inhaling sharply as Beau's tongue seeks them immediately and her lips seal around her to suck greedily. Yasha shivers at the feeling that crackles up her arm and down into her core. She slips her other hand inside her pants and touches herself with a soft moan.

Beau whimpers and her legs come up as she sucks harder at Yasha's fingers in frustration and arousal, and Yasha doesn't try to keep her own gasping quiet as she hooks her thumb under Beau's jaw and grips it just roughly enough to make her swallow hard. She comes quietly with a groan, rubbing herself through the aftershocks as Beau bites down just enough to demonstrate her displeasure. Good. She's distracted. Yasha slips her hand out from inside her pants, picks up the candle soundlessly, and tips it down and back up in a quick motion over Beau's stomach as she withdraws her fingers from between Beau's lips just in time.

Beau writhes, all gritted teeth and harsh groans from deep in her chest as she arches desperately in the attempt to spread the wax and cool it faster. Every muscle in her torso is clenched, her abs rigid and streaked with rapidly clouding lines that dance as she breathes hard.

"Holy fuck," she gasps. "Fuck fuck fuck--" her words trail off into a strangled cry as Yasha tips the candle again, more slowly this time. The wax splatters on the inside of her hipbone, just below her navel, and at the top of her thigh, where it pools and runs down before hardening.

Yasha has never seen anything so intoxicating.

The sounds coming from Beau don't even approximate words when she drips it again, this time on the reddened skin on the inside of Beau's thigh. Beau is a wreck of helpless gasps and grunts of pain and pleasure as her legs fold and uncurl in a blind attempt to relieve the heat. Yasha can just see the darkened wet spot on the sheets where Beau is dripping.

Yasha tips the candle upside down across Beau's breasts and when her back arches, she pushes three merciless fingers into her cunt.

Beau's mouth fixes in a silent scream as her air halts completely. Her entire body is taut and breathless, impaled on Yasha's fingers and for a moment that stretches into forever, Beau simply hangs there, crying out soundlessly.

Finally, her chest heaves for air and a sobbing breath grinds from Beau as she collapses back onto the bed. Yasha blows the candle out and sets it aside, pumping into Beau mercilessly as her ragged breathing wrenches from her scarred and wax-splattered chest with moans she is completely incapable of controlling and may not even be aware she's making.

Gods, Yasha loves her like this, taken apart (by her!) and entirely raw. She pulls her hand out and settles between Beau's thighs to hold them open before filling her up again and crooking her fingers just so. She leans forward and bites another mark just above Beau's breast as her free hand rakes down the side of her ribs hard enough to draw a small amount of blood.

Beau clenches desperately around her and grinds hard against the heel of Yasha's hand, keening helplessly until everything in her locks up with a broken cry that would have likely resounded through a large part of the Chateau if not for the spells around the room. Yasha rocks her hand in and out through Beau's comedown and the resulting aftershocks, until all of the tension leaves her in a boneless heap against the sheets, twitching just slightly and shivering.

Yasha withdraws her hand and leans forward to pull the blindfold gently away. She waits as Beau sucks in a few more trembling breaths, and finally those beautiful eyes open behind a haze of complete overwhelm.

Yasha calls to her softly, touches her cheek with the back of her hand. The time for pain has passed. Beau let Yasha break her into her component parts, and now it's time to put her together again. "Hey," she whispers. "Look at me. Beauregard." Slowly, Beau's eyes seem to come back into focus, until finally she seems to truly see Yasha, who smiles. "There you are."

As she knew would happen, Beau's responding smile cracks as tears rush up into her eyes. Yasha makes soothing noises and presses feather-light kisses to Beau's cheeks as she reaches under to hastily pull the end of the rope free from Beau's wrists and push it down. She lifts Beau to rest against her chest, and her dark arms come up on reflex to drape around to Yasha's back. Her breath is hot and fast against Yasha's collarbone, gradually slowing as Yasha holds her close and rubs a soothing hand up and down her spine.

She shushes her gently and rocks her without really thinking about it. Finally, Beau's breathing evens out and she stirs a little. "Was I good?" She asks. Her hopeful voice is scratchy with strain.

Yasha kisses the top of her head and squeezes her gently, affection swelling within her. "You were absolutely amazing. So beautiful and good."

Beau sighs contentedly against her, and Yasha's mind changes again. This has to be the best part. A limp and defenseless Beau trusting Yasha with the bright, raw spark at the heart of her, with no walls or desire to run. Yasha would do anything at all for these moments. She reaches past Beau, holding her close, and plucks her water skin from where it hangs on the edge of the wooden bed frame.

"Here," she says, maneuvering it and Beau so that the water finds its way into her lover's dry mouth. Beau's arm raises in a halfhearted reflex to hold the skin, but she wraps it a little more tightly around Yasha's waist instead and drinks gratefully. Yasha sets it back down nearby and reaches up to push Beau's hair back out of her face, stroking her cheek and brow along the way. She rests her fingers on the buckle of the collar. "You want this off?"

Beau hesitates, then shakes her head. "Not yet. I like it. Like belonging to you."

Yasha smiles. "You are mine," she says, resting her cheek on Beau's head, "but I am also yours." Beau's arms squeeze her a little in silent acknowledgment, and Yasha starts to hum quietly. It's nothing, really, an old line of celestial notes she's carried with her for as long as she can remember, but it's hers and she gives it to Beau as her hand drifts up from Beau's back to rub gently at the bristly hair of her undercut. Beau makes a noise of pleasure and burrows her head a little closer.

"We've got to get you cleaned up," Yasha says when she notices the smear of blood from Beau's ribs.

"Okay," Beau says quietly.

Yasha lays Beau gently down on the sheets and pulls a pillow closer to rest under her head. "I'll be right back." She kisses Beau on the lips and gets up to draw a bath.

****************************

Beau's still hazy and mostly numb when Yasha returns a few moments later. She's naked, Beau notes dimly, but she's still too fuzzy to get properly worked up about missing out on finally having Yasha's body and her permission at the same time. She can't help but wince as Yasha's hands slide under her knees and shoulders, and she hears Yasha murmuring an apology as she carries her into the room with the ornate bath.

Beau perks up a little when Yasha sets her in the steaming water, partially owing to its effects and partially because her ass stings for a moment like it's on fucking fire. A moment later, her ribs light up a bit more dully. She breathes through it, holding the pain as close as the memory of pleasure.

She has _never_ been fucked like that. Well, she supposes that's not strictly true. She's certainly had worse done in the name of unhealthy coping mechanisms. But this wasn't that. She's not running from anything or trying to chase anything out of her head, and most importantly the blood tinting the water just slightly had been drawn by Yasha. That makes all the difference, she thinks. For once, she had given herself over to someone because she knew they would take care of her, not because she was counting on the opposite. She won't wake up tomorrow with a hangover and busted ribs for Jester to fix while she makes worried faces and tries and fails not to pry. In fact, Beau's thinking that maybe she won't go in for healing at all. The cuts and bruises suit her -- always have -- and in a weird way they feel like gifts. Reminders.

Yasha slips into the water beside her and damn, this is a nice tub if it can fit them both comfortably. She reaches behind her and pulls the pins and bands out of her hair, shaking it free and smiling a bit drunkenly at Yasha when she turns to watch.

"You can touch it if you want," she says, and something inside her thrills at the hoarseness of her voice. She won't mind keeping that for a few days, either.

Yasha holds up a rag and smiles. "I want to, but let me clean you up first." Yasha is sitting on her knees in front of some kind of small ledge that Beau is on, and the water comes up to just under both of their breasts. Beau leans back and nods as Yasha pulls closer and begins to dab gently at the wax spotting Beau's chest. It pulls a little when Yasha peels it off, but it's not exactly pain, and Beau relaxes shoulders she hadn't realized she'd tensed.

Something about Yasha kneeling between beau's legs and staring at her breasts with such a concentrated expression makes Beau feel just a little giggly. She manages to tamp it down into a broad grin that she knows distantly must look a little odd. Yasha doesn't ask, just brings a warm dripping hand to Beau's face and kisses her like it's a thank you, which is still a little confusing but she's _definitely_ too fucked-out to have that conversation. It hurts a little with the split lip, but it's the kind of hurt Beau likes and it doesn't feel like too much.

Yasha takes her time scrubbing Beau down gently, occasionally murmuring to herself or to Beau in the way that Beau is starting to suspect might be par for the course for her. It's endearing, and Beau's heart is doing something soft as she lets herself drift a little in time under Yasha's hands.

Beau comes back to awareness when Yasha threads her fingers through Beau's hair and tugs very gently. "Hey," she says when Beau blinks at her.

"Hey," Beau croaks. She realizes the water level is lower and the overall temperature is cooler. "I fell asleep?"

Yasha smiles. "Just a little. I'm going to get a towel and help you out." Beau nods, shivering just a little, and Yasha climbs out of the tub with a kiss on Beau's forehead.

This time, Beau remembers to look, and it's her turn to smile when Yasha catches her eye. "Wow," she says simply, because words aren't really her thing right now, Yasha's fucked them out of her, but the wow is probably better than anything she could say right now. Yasha pulls one of the big and fluffy towels off a hook in the wall, and Beau gets shakily to her feet. It's easier than it would've been earlier, that's for sure, but she still leans hard on Yasha when she steps out of the tub and into her arms, towel wrapped snugly around her shoulders. She realizes she's still wearing the collar. It doesn't arouse her -- possibly she needs a week to recover -- but it feels right and causes something warm to spread behind what feels like might be her ribcage if she were a giant sap. Yasha takes the other towel and kneels to dry Beau from hips to feet, her shoulder a brace for Beau's arm to hold her up.

Yasha wraps a bandage around the spot where she'd scratched Beau at the end. Beau's not sure if it's to keep her from bleeding on the sheets or because Yasha is so clearly looking for every reason to take care of her right now. She finds she doesn't mind the attention.

"You're so nice to me," Beau says stupidly as Yasha ties it off, because maybe somewhere in her there is a bit of a sap and maybe it likes to come out after she's been fucked senseless by an actual angel. Maybe that's okay.

"That's because I love you," Yasha says simply, like she's stating the weather or what she'd like to eat instead of turning Beau's world upside down.

"Wow," Beau says again. There's a distant part of her that knows this conversation is only possible because she's too tired to be self conscious. She thinks maybe it's important that she say it back now, just in case she can't later. "I love you too."

There's a twinge of something deep-seated and ugly in her chest as the words come out, but she did it and even if she can't muster it up again for a while, she knows that means the world to Yasha by the way she looks at her with something like awe and affection before standing to kiss Beau gently again. "I know you do," she says gently. "But thank you for telling me." Beau buries her face in Yasha's shoulder in a sudden rush of affection and shyness, and this time she does giggle when Yasha picks her up and carries her to the bed.

The soft linen shirt and pants from the trunk at the end of the bed are a nice touch and Beau is tempted, but it's rare they get to sleep without constriction and the sheets feel smooth and cool against her bare skin as she passes the water skin back to Yasha again and wiggles down further into the mattress. Yasha seems to agree, sliding in beside her and tugging gently at the rope that connects to whatever magic kept the lights up. The room goes completely dark for a moment, and then Beau is able to make out Yasha's face by the soft moonlight drifting through the open window.

"Come here," Yasha says, and Beau burrows close with pleasure, sighing as Yasha's arms wrap around her.

"Hey Yash?" Beau says into her shoulder. She feels Yasha's answering sound in her own chest. "Thanks again."

Yasha's kisses her on top of her head again. Beau is really starting to like it. "You realize this is a thing we can just do now, right?" she teases. "I had just as much fun as you did."

Beau blinks. "Huh," she says. "I guess that's true. Been awhile since…" she trails off before she can kill the mood.

"Since you knew the person you slept with would still be there in the morning," Yasha guessed.

Beau sighs. "I'm that obvious, huh."

"If you know where to look."

Beau's eyes are drifting shut. She can feel sleep on the precipice, waiting for her to tumble in. "I'm glad you know where to look," she mumbles, and passes out without knowing if Yasha had heard.

************************

Yasha's heart feels tied together with string, like if she moves too suddenly it might burst apart and scatter to the winds. She adjusts Beau carefully to look down at her sleeping face, drifting a hand through Beau's hair. Beau doesn't wake, and Yasha watches her a long time before sleep comes for her too.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was fun. About 4 days of fun. Coming in clutch again with vaguely aspec Yasha because that's me and what fic is for.


End file.
